Page 25 of Dating and Other Theories
Jinny put her knitting down and helped herself to a cookie. “I don’t know that I’m actually dating. I went out on one date.”
“But you’re going out again this weekend,” Esther pointed out. Jinny had told her Jonathan had called as promised and asked her on a second date—and she’d said yes. They were going out again Saturday night.
“That’s totally dating.” Olivia nodded absently as she concentrated on her Doctor Who scarf. “Anything more than one date totally counts as dating. Officially.”
“I just don’t know how I feel about this new guy yet,” Jinny said around a mouthful of cookie. She finished chewing and swallowed. “I don’t know that I even want to be dating him. I’m just keeping my options open for now.”
“I’ll tell you what my mother always told me,” Vilma said. “Never skimp on shoes or mattresses.”
Jinny’s forehead wrinkled. “I don’t know what that means in this context.”
“Men are like shoes,” Vilma explained. “The world is full of cute shoes, but not all of them are worth walking around in. If they give you blisters, it doesn’t matter how much of a bargain they were.”
“Or how good in bed,” Esther added, to make sure that part of the analogy was clear.
Vilma nodded. “Sometimes you have to walk around in a new pair to figure out if they fit, and sometimes you have to break them in a little before they get really comfortable. But life’s too short to waste on cheap shoes—or men who don’t appreciate you.”
Esther liked that. Maybe she’d have Vilma embroider it on a pillow to give Jinny for Christmas.
Chapter Eight
While Jinny was out on her second date with Jonathan on Saturday night, Esther forced herself to finish making notes on his script. When all was said and done, she’d filled fifteen single-spaced pages with feedback—most of it negative. It was all constructive, but it was going to be a massive ego blow for the poor guy.
Hey, he’d said he wanted her opinion, so that was what he was getting. Like it or not.
By the time Esther went to bed, sometime after midnight, Jinny still hadn’t called or texted to tell her how her date with Jonathan had gone. Esther wasn’t sure if that was a good sign or a bad one.
Maybe the date was so bad she didn’t want to talk about it—or maybe the date wasn’t over yet. She hadn’t heard anything next door, but for all she knew, Jinny could be over there in Jonathan’s bed right now.
Ugh. That was not an image she needed in her head. Thank god her bedroom didn’t share a wall with his.
Esther fell asleep trying not to think about Jonathan and Jinny, and ended up having weird dreams all night about his stupid sci-fi script.
In the morning, when she still hadn’t heard a peep from Jinny, Esther texted her.
How’d it go last night?
She was trying to play it cool and not seem overinvested in the outcome of the date, but she wanted to know what the sitch was before she saw Jonathan in a couple hours.
Going to church with my parents, Jinny texted back after a few minutes. Call you later?
Dammit. Jinny only drove down to Irvine to see her parents once a month, but when she did, it ate up the entire day. So much for talking to her before she had to face Jonathan.
Esther had arranged to meet with him at two o’clock. Since his place was such a dump, she had suggested they do it at her apartment.
At ten past two, he knocked on her door. “Hey,” he said when she opened it, hovering uncertainly on her doorstep with his laptop.
Esther stepped back and waved him inside. “You ready to do this?”
“Yeah.” He hesitated before stepping over the threshold, like maybe he wasn’t all that ready after all. “You finish reading it?” he asked, setting his laptop down on her coffee table.
“Yep.” She walked to the dining table and patted the printouts she’d made for him. “Got my notes right here.”
He came over for a closer look, and she flipped them over so he couldn’t read them. The notes could wait. She wanted to find out how his date with Jinny had gone before she crushed his ego with her script critique.
Esther placed herself between him and the table. “First, tell me—how’d it go last night?”
“Um…” He paused, scratching the back of his head. A hint of a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Better, I think.”
